


Practice Makes Perfect

by IdjitSherlockian



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Its only mentioned but eh, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 03:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12718614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdjitSherlockian/pseuds/IdjitSherlockian
Summary: Frank and Mikey are home alone and a bit bored.





	Practice Makes Perfect

Frank sighed, rolling his head where he rested on Mikey's lap so he could look at Mikey while he laid. Above him, Mikey's eyes were fixated on the TV screen, lips drawn in a tight line so it was impossible to tell if he was enjoying it, so Frank did the obvious thing and began to dialogue Mikey’s thoughts in his own mind.

Halfway through a particularly interesting idea about how one of the guys on screen looked hot as fuck,  
Frank's mind story was cut off by Mikey letting out a huff and looking down at him. "Can you stop squinting at me like that? It's fuckin' creepy."

Frank grinned, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly from the position he was in. "Not my fault this movies boring as fuck. What the hell is this, anyway?"

"Some Disney movie about a girl with like, boy mind controlling powers I think? Listen man I didn't know where the remote was, and I don't question Gerard's viewing choices." A small smile broke free from Mikey when Frank snorted at the additional comment. "You're right though. This movie sucks."

Nevertheless, another minute passed of Mikey staring blankly at the screen before Frank swiftly sat up, promptly declaring. "Well, I'm bored."

Mikey raised an unimpressed brow, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. "Yeah? And what less boring thing do you suggest we do, Mr. Obvious?"

Frank turned so his back was against the armrest of the couch, sticking his tongue out at Mikey before surveying him. Eventually, he came to a conclusion. "You have nice lips. We should make out."

Mikey was silent for a second, seeming to consider this. He shrugged, looking Frank dead in the eye. “Like, now?”

“Well, yeah, of course now. It wouldn’t help with our boredom right now if we didn’t do it, y’know, right now.” 

Mikey rolled his eyes, pushing on Frank’s shoulder rather roughly before pulling him in right after with a mutter of, “Come here you absolute asswipe.”

It took all of Frank’s mental willpower to refocus his attention to the kiss instead of laughing, and even then he exhaled quickly out of his nose, causing Mikey to draw back for a second before rolling his eyes AGAIN (two in less than ten seconds? Must be a new record) before swooping in to finally kiss him, and might Frank say…

He was incredibly good at telling who was a good kisser.

Mikey tasted like cigarettes and the wine they had stolen from his mom’s secret stash for when members of the church came over that Frank just had happened to have known about (hey, it was better than nothing as Mikey said) , but Frank wasn’t complaining as he shifted to pull Mikey closer to him. They let the kiss go on for a while, a perfect cure to the boredom, before finally stopping. They simply looked at each other for a moment before Frank broke into a grin.

“Knew it.”

Mikey laughed, moving away and back to the corner of the couch he had claimed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Hell yeah you should.” Frank said, chasing his movement over to that side of the couch and leaning against him once more, swearing his cheeks had ever ached so much from smiling. “Best damn kisser in this town other than me, if I had to say so myself.”

Mikey shrugged. “I’ll take second place.”

“Aw, come on, don’t settle. I’m sure you could surpass me. That is, if we practice enough.” 

Frank burst into giggles as Mikey punched him in the shoulder despite the fact that he responded, “Practice does make perfect.”

“That it does, my dear Mikey. So… how about a practice round two?”


End file.
